


Giving up a Part of Me

by JanaxIV



Series: Feiowl and other Shenanigans [2]
Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: M/M, blood mention, injury mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-12
Updated: 2020-08-12
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:02:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25224325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JanaxIV/pseuds/JanaxIV
Summary: a continuation of my fic "A kind of interrogation"
Relationships: Feitan (Hunter X Hunter)/Fukurou | Owl
Series: Feiowl and other Shenanigans [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1827460
Comments: 2
Kudos: 8





	Giving up a Part of Me

Fukurou doesn’t know how long it has been. Time moves weird when you can’t see and are restricted to a single spot, with little to no outside stimulus. His body is cold, bare feet close to the stone floor, his thin shirt and pants hardly fitting for a night spent outside a heated room. For all he knows, Feitan could have left him there either a few minutes or hours ago. Thinking of the other makes the cuts near his shoulder sting, even the smallest moves causing dried blood to crack on his skin.

Still, despite being sore all over and most likely heading towards his injuries getting infected, he doesn’t regret what happened for a second. Circumstances be damned, he hasn’t enjoyed himself like that in a while, and Feitan had been able to scratch that particular itch perfectly. Not just that… from the sound of it, the other man is just as interested in a repeat of the night as Fukurou himself is. A win-win, at least from the looks of it.

Trying to get comfortable, he can’t suppress a soft hiss at the pain in his legs, all his limbs having gone that special kind of numb, that makes every fibre scream in agony at the lightest move. If he didn’t get to stand soon, that would be a bitch to handle. 

As if fate herself had heard him, the answer to his problems draws closer, in the form of two terrifyingly powerful Nen-signatures. One he recognizes as Feitan, the immense heat of his natural powers rolling of the man in waves, discernible even from quite a distance. The other though… that one he can’t place, but if he had to take a guess it would be the one his interrogator had referred to as ‘Danchou’. It’s a strange force, multi-faceted and oppressive, a powerful one, made of hundreds of smaller energies. 

The realization that his Hatsu would soon be part of that whole makes him huff out a breath, lips twitching into a dry smirk. He had really agreed to give up his ability, hadn’t he? No chance that this situation would go any kind of well, but… he’d have to make the best of it. With the Shadow Beasts all but gone, he might as well shrug off the last thing that bound him to his servitude within the Mafia’s ranks, no matter how integral that thing has been to who he is. 

His ears pick up on a lock being turned and he forces his breathing to even out, staying perfectly quiet as two sets of footsteps enter the room. Closing his eyes, he tries to track their movement as much as possible, arching an eyebrow as another chair is pulled up across from him. Curious…

When the bag is pulled from his head, the first thing he sees is Feitan, standing before him completely unfazed. Nothing in his expression betrays what happened between them earlier, at least until dark eyes catch on Fukurou’s lips, covered in scabs from where teeth had dug in, but the moment passes, as Feitan steps aside, allowing him a view of the third person in the room. 

‘Danchou’ is without a doubt a striking appearance, though not at all what Fukurou had expected. For one he is young, his features boyishly soft, with an angelic smile devoid of any actual emotion, black hair framing his face and falling over the bandages wrapped around his head. It’s unlikely that the suit he’s in is his usual attire, but it fits him, hugging his tall and slender frame in all the right places to accentuate his build.

“So...I take it you’re the boss around here? I’d shake your hand, but eh…” Moving his still bound arms, he gives a crooked smirk, shrugging his shoulders as best as possible. “I’m kinda handicapped.”

There's a split second when the man looks almost taken aback, before he closes his eyes and shakes his head. He probably expected Fukurou to be a lot less talkative, but at least he doesn't seem to mind. 'Danchou' drags the second chair closer, close enough for their knees to almost touch as he straddles it, arms resting on the back of it.

More interrogation then? That sounds unlikely, he gave them all he knows already. 

"That is quite alright, we can do without the handshake. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Owl."

Hearing his code name makes his mouth twitch into a frown for but a second. Of course they would call him that, they don't know him by any other name, but still he kinda hates it. If the man across from him notices, he doesn't react to it.

"Now then… I have been told you were most cooperative. I thank you for that, it does help speed things up a little."

He can't help but snort out a laugh, meeting 'Danchou's' eyes with a raised brow of his own, reclining as much as possible in his position. Fukurou's face hardens, his smile gone completely before he speaks. 

"Quit the act. I never had much say in the matter, after all."

That results in something, the other's demeanor shifting, his eyes slightly hooded, one cheek resting on the knuckles of his propped up arm. He seems to consider Fukurou for a moment before leaning back and giving a short signal to Feitan. Seconds later, he can feel his interrogator standing behind him, a cold blade slipping under the ropes winding around Fukurou's arms.

"Hm… perhaps so, and yet, you could have posed much more resistance. Let us not drag this out too much longer, there are a few things I need from you, in order for this transfer to work."

As Danchou rises from his seat, Fukurou feels a warm breath on his neck, making him freeze as his pulse speeds up. He knows Feitan won't cause him harm right now, but the closeness and sheer promise of pain is enough to make his body react. The whisper near his ear is little more than a hiss, it's message obvious. 

"No stupid moves, you hear?"

Letting out a shaky breath, he collects himself, giving a court nod in response. 

"Loud and clear."

Only then do his bonds come off, finally allowing him to pull his arms from their position behind his back. Each move makes it feel as if static is running through his body, his joints almost refusing to move until he twists and turns each a few times, trying not to let his pain be too obvious. Once he's completely free, he massages the circulation back into his legs, not yet daring to stand.

"So...what's the next step here?"

Raising his head, he catches the man producing a hefty tome from thin air - a part of his ability, no doubt, but not conjuration. Fukurou knows the flow of energy typical for his kind of Nen and this was different. One of the rare ones then?

“First of all… I was not able to witness you use your powers before. If you will, a demonstration, as well as a short explanation would be appreciated.”

Pushing himself up from the chair, Fukurou ignores the screams of protest from his muscles, focusing some effort on stopping his legs from giving out under him. That doesn’t keep his vision from going momentarily blurry, but he can handle that. A demonstration…? Glancing around, he scratches the back of his neck, figuring that the chair would be the best thing to use his ability on, given that going for anything else might end up seeming like an attack on either of the other men.

“You already know how conjuration works, so there’s really not much else to it. Visualize the cloak and it comes to you.” Along with his words, he reaches into the empty air next to him, fingers closing around materializing fabric, until he’s holding a dark cloth. The rush of energy, and it’s all too familiar feeling make him smile, his heart calming with the weight in his hand. 

“It will automatically adjust itself to whatever size you need it to be. Technically, if you pump enough effort into it, you could envelope a whole skyscraper.” A flick of his wrist has the cloth envelope the chair, twisting on itself and shrinking, until he holds a tiny bag on his palm. All the while, he can feel two pairs of eyes follow his every move with intense scrutiny. He has seen Feitan’s speed, if the other had even a hint of suspicion, Fukurou would be dead in an instant.

“Finally...to get back what’s inside, just open it up and shake it out like a blanket. Fair warning though, if the cloth gets destroyed while enveloping something, anything inside goes along with it.” Bringing the chair back, he dematerializes his ability, slipping his hands into his pockets and glancing back at the leader of the Spiders. Fukurou can still feel the energy of his Nen thrum beneath his fingertips, so this wasn’t all yet… right?

His suspicions are confirmed, as the man steps closer, making him tense slightly, not sure what to expect at this point. From the corner of his periphery, he notices that Feitan has left his spot by the wall, stepping ever so slightly closer, as if to prepare for any attack against his commander. Really, as if Fukurou would be that stupid… Standing right in front of Fukurou, ‘Danchou’ holds out the cover of his book, giving him a proper look at it. There’s a strangely fragmented white handprint on it, contrasting the black leather wrappings beneath, the words “Bandit's Secret” embossed on the top.

“If you could simply place your hand on this, then we will be done here.”

For the first time in the entire night, he hesitates. This would seal his fate, make him nothing more than a combat trained civilian. While he had accepted his fate of signing over his Hatsu to the other, actually doing so felt… scary? Intimidating? He doesn’t know, can’t place all the emotions churning inside of him, making his heart clench almost violently. Still, there was no way back. All he can do is move forward, wherever his path will lead him.

With a deep breath, he finally reaches out, the flat of his palm laying on top of the book as if he were to swear an oath. Instead there is a feeling of loss settling deep in his bones and as he pulls away, trying to call forth his powers bears no results, the air remaining as empty as it was. That would take getting used to… All his other Nen-specific capabilities were still there, he can easily still focus the flow of it all, but he can no longer give it form.

“Thank you. Now… I believe you are aware that I require your continued survival…”

 _Danchou need you alive._ Another prerequisite of “Skill Hunter” as it seems. Damn, those specialization types sure like to make their lives complicated. Fukurou had always preferred the more straightforward uses of Nen, his own included. 

“Yeah, so I’ve been told. No worries, I don’t plan on getting myself killed. I-” 

“He stay with me.”

The words make him pause, eyes snapping towards Feitan, but clearly, he wasn’t the only one who got a surprise out of the man’s rather bold claim. From the way ‘Danchou’ blinks, it’s clear there had been no talks about the issue beforehand, making it questionable if he would allow such a thing. Fukurou sure wouldn’t mind… even if it were just to know he has time to safely test out life without his Hatsu.

“That no problem, yes?”

It probably speaks to the bond within the Troupe that Feitan can be so blunt and downright cocky towards his leader, without fear of repercussions. If this had been the Mafia, Fukurou knows the other would at the very least be looking at what was generally referred to as ‘disciplinary actions’ but was really just badly concealed torture. Instead ‘Danchou’ chuckles, glancing between the two of them and giving a nod.

“Of course not. Do make sure not to break him.”

Moments later, Fukurou is left alone in the room with Feitan, the smaller man reaching up to drag him down by the front of his shirt giving him a triumphant smirk.

“Told you I keep you.”

His body shivers at those words, but in this moment, he can’t think of a better outcome to the night.


End file.
